


It's Not a Lecture

by IJM



Category: General Hospital
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-02-01 02:10:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21329536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IJM/pseuds/IJM
Summary: Franco has returned to his family and is trying to clean up one of the messes "Drew" created.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 17





	It's Not a Lecture

**Author's Note:**

> Not for profit.  
For entertainment purposes only.  
No claim of ownership of characters.

Cameron looked up from his laptop when he heard a knock on his bedroom door, “Come in.”

Franco opened the door, “Can we talk a few minutes?”

“Sure,” Cameron shoved a pile of textbooks off his bed onto the floor so Franco could sit down with him. He was relieved to have his stepfather back after a tumultuous few months. His presence made their house a happier home.

“Thanks,” Franco said. One side of Cam’s bed was next to the wall, so he grabbed a pillow and propped it behind his back to get comfortable. “Lots of homework?”

“Yeah, gotta do a research paper. I hate research.”

“At least you have the internet,” Franco teased. “Your mom and I had to go to actual libraries and look through card catalogs and find real books and journals. And, in college, the going rate to photocopy an article was ten cents a page.”

“That sounds positively archaic,” Cameron laughed. He supposed research was much easier since search engines came along.

“It was rough, kid. Walking across campus in the snow and rain… uphill both ways, of course.” He grinned. Having Cameron accept him and even _love_ him had been a wonderful thing to come home to after divesting himself of Drew’s memories. “What’s your topic?”

“I haven’t decided yet.”

“What class?”

“Art appreciation.”

“So, it didn’t occur to you to ask for advice from the world-famous artist who _lives in your house_?” He feigned being insulted.

Cam seemed sheepish. “Well, you just got back, and I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“There it is,” Franco said. “That’s what we need to talk about.”

“My research paper?”

He shook his head. “Your compassionate, yet misguided, idea that you have to protect your mother and me.”

“Am I in trouble?” Cam asked, confused. He hadn’t done anything to cross a line in weeks.

“No, not at all. You’re a good kid—a great kid.” Franco assured him. “But you are a _kid_.”

“What is this about?” Cameron asked.

“You mom told me you got drunk with Josslyn.”

Cam rolled his eyes. “Oh, that. Do I get another lecture?”

“Nope, no lecture. I just want to talk.”

“Okay,” Cam agreed hesitantly. It certainly sounded like a lecture was coming.

“I understand you were amazing for your mom and your brothers while my brain was malfunctioning.” He had a variety of ways to describe his time as Drew because no one was sure exactly what to call it. His experience didn’t clearly meet any current definitions of medical or psychological disorders.

“That’s a good thing, right?” Cam asked.

“It shows what a wonderful and compassionate human being you are,” Franco told him. “But… stop it. For now, anyway. Go back to just being a kid while you still can. Let your mom and I be the parents, if you don’t mind having someone as vastly underqualified as I am trying to figure out how to be a Dad.”

It still surprised Cam that Franco didn’t have faith in his parenting skills. “I think you figured it out.”

“Hmm?” Franco tilted his head, asking what Cam meant.

“Look, you’re the only dad who ever stuck around. You literally gave up your life for me because you were thinking of Mom, Jake, and Aiden. The only problem is, losing you wasn’t easier than losing me would have been. We were all really bummed out.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologize. You did a good thing. It was an impossible situation.”

“Not really,” Franco told him. “I would always put you, your brothers, or your mom ahead of my own well-being. That’s not heroic or brave. It’s just what you do when love someone.”

“Yeah. You know, we’re not used to having that kind of selflessness from a father figure around here.”

“Everyone who ever left your mom and you boys was an idiot. Truly.” He shook his head, angered by the men who hurt his family, yet grateful that their abandonment had allowed him a chance to be part of this family. “So, here’s the thing… _drinking_….”

“I know, it’s stupid, it’s dangerous, it’s illegal…” Cam listed the negatives in a bit of a sing-song voice. “Believe me, everyone told me: Mom, Aunt Hayden, Grandma, Trina, Mrs. Corinthos…”

“It’s a _symptom_,” Franco stopped him from naming people, cutting to the deeper issue.

Cam paused, momentarily taken aback. He hadn’t expected that word. “A symptom of what?”

Franco sighed. “Well, it could be a lot of things. Tell me if I’m wrong. But I think you were feeling overwhelmed, angry, guilty, anxious, hopeless, misunderstood, and carrying a burden of thinking you had to fix something that you couldn’t fix.”

Cam was silent. Franco had deciphered exactly how he had been feeling when he decided to steal the liquor.

“Am I in the ballpark?”

“I’d call it a homerun.”

“So, here’s the thing. You have been given your mom’s perspective from her and I don’t think you see Elizabeth as weak, but most people don’t realize just how strong she really is, or how great of a mother she is.”

“I know; Mom’s the best.”

“I want you to hear it from a son’s perspective.”

Cam was intrigued. Franco never, ever talked about his mother.

“My mother, the one who raised me, Betsy… she was nothing like Elizabeth. She was truly fragile. As far back as I can remember, I felt like it was my job to take care of her and maintain her delusions to keep her happy. I thought it was my job to protect her.”

“From what?”

“The truth.”

“The truth about what?”

“That’s irrelevant,” Franco answered.

Cameron knew whatever it was, it wasn’t irrelevant, but he wasn’t going to push for answers.

“What’s relevant is that I misinterpreted my place as _the child_. It wasn’t my job to protect my mother when I was a little kid. Or a teenager. It was unhealthy for both of us, especially for me. It didn’t actually help her either.” He attempted to lighten the conversation. “You may be aware that I have a bit of a troubled past.” He saw Cameron’s dumbstruck expression. “Too soon?”

Cameron couldn’t help but laugh. “Probably inappropriate.”

“I try.”

“So, what happened… I mean, did you like start acting out when you were a teenager?”

“Oh, no,” Franco answered. “I was acting out before I was in kindergarten.” He didn’t give Cameron time to ask any questions. “Part of that included drinking when I was around ten. I guesstimate ten because I think I was in 5th grade. I sometimes associate memories with things like who was my teacher that year, or whatever.”

“What were you drinking at ten and where did you get it?” Cameron was shocked. Jake was older than that.

“Beer, scotch, whiskey, whatever. And I got it from my house. My mother wasn’t a drinker, but she had a string of lousy men in her life who were. I just stole it, like you did.”

“More than once?” Cam was surprised that he had repetitively gotten away with drinking in his own home without getting into trouble.

Franco nodded. “I just took the stuff down the basement and would drink until I passed out. Which, for the record, doesn’t take much when you’re ten-ish.”

They fell into a tense silence for a few minutes. Franco wondered if he had over-shared. Cameron wondered where this revelation was leading.

“You must’ve been in a lot of pain,” Cameron eventually said.

“I was.” He looked boldly into Cameron’s eyes. “And some of that pain came from taking on responsibilities that weren’t mine to take on. That’s why I’m asking you to not do that.”

Cameron looked away. Franco could be very intense, and he got the impression this was not something that his stepfather had ever discussed with someone before.

“Did it get worse?”

“Sure, but in other ways. I experimented with drugs.” He was silent a moment, lost in a memory. “That didn’t go well. My brain has never been wired to handle anything that causes hallucinations.” He paused, thinking back on his life. “It was bad. The point is, the reason I’m telling you this, is that I’m concerned that you might make some other dangerous choices.”

“I just drank the one time…” Cameron told him. “And things are better now that you’re back.”

“They won’t always be better. Something will happen that you’ll want to escape someday—maybe you get your heart broken or do a terrible job on a research paper. I don’t want you to turn to a substance or an activity, thinking it will either make your life better or mask your feelings. No matter what it is, the need for little bit can turn into the need for a lot.”

“You don’t have a drinking problem now,” Cameron observed.

“I realized the futility of getting drunk pretty young.” He shrugged. “I had a moment of clarity. I was desperate to be in control of situations that I couldn’t control. If I passed out drunk or high, I gave away what little control I had. It was counterproductive.”

Cam considered what was being said to him. He wondered what situations Franco had been desperate to control but had gotten a clear message that the answer to that question wasn’t part of this discussion.

“So,” Franco sighed. “How bad was that as far as lectures go?”

“It wasn’t a lecture,” Cameron answered. “It was a conversation. And I appreciate it.” He glanced at the pile of textbooks and wondered if there was ever a time when a research paper was Franco’s biggest problem. “Um… you think deep thoughts.”

Franco laughed. “It’s not as glamourous as it sounds. Overthinking is a bit of a drag to be honest.”

“You’re not a drag though. You’re usually fun. You make us all laugh a lot.”

“I’m happy here. How could I be miserable around the people I love most in the world?”

“I’m glad you’re happy,” Cameron told him. “You probably don’t believe it, but you deserve to be happy.”

Franco felt a stinging in his eyes but fought it. “You’re right. I don’t believe it. But thank you for saying it.” He got up, tossed Cameron his pillow, and said, “Good talk, kid.” He turned back and said, “Anna Hyatt Huntington.”

Cameron straightened his pillows and watched the only reliable father he ever had walk away. He typed the name Franco gave him into a search engine. After Franco closed the door, Cam agreed. “Good talk, Dad.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is just one of those rabbits I had to chase. I'm working on additional chapters for A Hell of a Halloween per request.


End file.
